Keryth's Tale
by Zudinmulamshius
Summary: The tale of how Keryth the Storyteller met Fig the Fearless, or the explanation of how a steel dragon came to be 'Da' to a runt prismatic dragon. Set in Faerun, rated for mildly graphic scenes of a violent nature.


Yet another Forgotten Realms bit, this one also about dragons. This is the backstory behind Keryth and Fig, Gus' two characters from the dragon campaign. Keryth is a steel dragon, Fig is a runt prismatic. Enjoy!

Keryth's Tale

Grey scales flashed like blades in the dappled sunlight of the dry pine forests of Evereska as the owner slipped between the rusty red bark of the trees like another shadow. Keryth's sharp eyes scanned the landscape, searching for a sign of a road. He really hated this area, but he was about as lost as a fellow could get.

Not only did he not enjoy being lost around here, but the rumors surrounding the area were plentiful. As a missionary of the good cause, he had spent many a night in many a tavern—and that meant he had heard nearly every rumor, myth, or legend Toril had to offer. In particular, there were tales of this place—the mythical lair of the Great Shining Wyrm. Possibly one of the most powerful dragons to have lived, he was a prismatic wyrm of such impossible proportion that his wings stirred up windstorms that broke trees in two. His breath was said to be more powerful than Elminster's best prismatic spray.

Keryth, being the traveler he was, had seen that spray once. He would rather not be on the business end of one of those, ever.

However, Keryth had heard from the eldest of his folk not long ago that the Great Shining Wyrm had passed on, finally giving in to the inexorable flow of time so many of the Darastrix took for granted. Now this place was haunted by strange, terrible beasts who claimed to be the servants of a god not even Keryth had heard of, some 'Hextor' of a world not yet found. And, if the rest of the smorgasbord of rumors were true, the Great Shining Wyrm's mate and clutch lay near here, the goal of these servants of the alien god.

If it was his mate, truly, that meant that she was likely twice as mean as her consort. Everyone knew she-dragons were the most terrifying creatures to walk the planes. Of course, there was always the fact that women did know many, many interesting stories, and the more powerful they were the better the stories they might have... Dreaming of tales of other worlds, Keryth grinned and decided he might stick his nose in a few caves and see what turned up.

Keryth took a deep breath, holding it as he mulled over the scents the wind bore. Pine, dirt, and rodenty smells were predominant, but there was an interesting undertone of... some kind of metal? Curious, Keryth sniffed around until he found the direction the smell was coming from. He followed it warily, as metal tended to come bundled with orcs or gnolls or humans or nasty things like that.

Many minutes passed with no sign of the source of the smell, though it was strengthening. Keryth was almost sure he had to be right on whatever it was—the smell was about right for that to be so. He was getting just a little frustrated. Maybe there was some obscure forge or mine around here. A hermit blacksmith, out here in Nowhereland.

A very large something landed with a huge crash not far ahead and screamed like a fire giant in a blizzard. Keryth yelped and scurried behind a tree, hiding until the horrid shrieks were silenced suddenly. He crept out, only to jump back when the sound of wings tens of times bigger than his swept over the forest. Keryth deemed it safe a second time, only to be sent right back to his hiding place when a towering, hulking beast with six arms bearing flails stomped past, easily bigger than a frost giant.

Keryth was beginning to regret sticking around... then again, if he had flown, there was a good chance he would have been struck down by one of those flails. The beast exuded that kind of evil—killing innocent little steel Darastrix for the hell of it. Nasty bastard.

"Begone from this place!" a huge, female, and angry voice bellowed. A blur of rainbow brilliance streaked over the canopy and slammed the creature, roaring defiance as it dug its claws into the grey skin of the thing. Keryth's eyes widened as he recognized what he was seeing.

The rumors were true—a prismatic dragon as big as Bahamut was tearing away at the grey monster. She loosed a sudden cone of intense colored light—the breath weapon, the spray!—right into the monster's face and chest. It howled, but it did not fall.

"This time I will kill you! You have meddled in my domain for too long! I will kill you, and I will crush your filthy brats, and you will never trouble me again!" roared the beast, beating at the dragoness with all six arms. She fell away from it, landing on all fours. One leg folded listlessly at her side, a front paw. Her wings were torn and bleeding, a dangerous injury if Keryth ever saw one. She bore many other wounds, none fatal but all draining. The screaming could have been a second beast... she killed it, but not easily, perhaps?

"Over my dead body!" she retorted, ruby eyes blazing fury. The beast laughed.

"So be it." It raised its maces, and with speed it should never have been capable of, it sprang and brought them crashing down on the dragoness' skull. Keryth felt his stomach roil as a sickening wet crunch sounded. The beast stood, spat, and stalked away. "Filthy creature..." it muttered.

Keryth ran for the dragoness. She was barely breathing, and her neck was a mess of blood and gore. One of her ruby eyes locked on Keryth. "Littling..." she wheezed, trying to lift her head.

"My lady, rest your head. What is it ye ask?" Keryth said gently, hoping his tone would be enough to assuage the pained dragoness.

"Littling... others surely... surely gone, but... my littling, my tiny one... behind... stat... Io... for me... my... happinesssss..." she hissed, her last word trailing into the sigh of a last breath. Keryth bowed his head, murmuring a prayer to Bahamut and Io for the poor soul. As he felt her leave, he received a last image of a statue of Io in a cavern and the sensation of 'hurry, hurry'.

Hurry Keryth did, catching up with the grey beast easily. It was crouched before a cavern, fisting one great hand. Clear fluid streaked by a strange, iridescent ichor ran down its fingers and dripped slimily to the ground. The creature opened its fist, dropping a mass of shimmering, broken shell and whitish shards. As the shells and the slain littlings sank into a miserable heap, the creature laughed and vanished in a haze of foul grey smoke.

Keryth could no longer handle his rebelling dinner at the sight and the thought. All those little ones... oh Bahamut, he could see little claws and teeth, little frills... Tears streaked his faceplates as Keryth heaved helplessly. Such absolute evil, to kill something so defenseless... Once the dry heaves passed, Keryth steeled himself and made his way down to the cavern. He muttered fervent prayers to every good god he knew of as he passed the destroyed eggs and littlings, unable to look for more than a second at such a painful sight. This was the reason he traveled all of Faerun championing the cause of good. He lived his life as a wanderer, bringing people and Darastrix together to bring a stop to heinous crimes such as this.

Reassessing his priorities, Keryth focused instead on finding the statue the dragoness had spoken of, the statue of Io. He found it, all right—the cavern was not deep. The statue stood impassive, a watcher over the nest yet no match for so foul a creature as the one who destroyed the little ones. Keryth bowed his head before the Father of the Darastrix. To be shamed so by such a thing, he felt it was only right for him to know his children had not abandoned him. Keryth raised his head again, resuming his search for that which the dragoness had spoken of. Searching the statue gave him no hints at first. He then moved around behind the statue.

There, nestled in a pile of brush, was an egg. It was the size of a small barrel, but it was round on the ends rather than flat. The shell sparkled with the same rainbow iridescence as its mother's scales. Something was wrong, though. Keryth knew that prismatic dragon eggs were many times bigger than this. As big as a farmer's hut, they said. This... this was small. Was it... a dead egg? Sometimes those came, to the distress of the mother. He felt the shell, surprised to find it warm on his nose.

Confused, sorrowed, frightened, but determined, Keryth shucked his backbag and nosed the flap open. With gentle hands (why humans called them paws he had no idea, they _were_ prehensile), he held the bag open and placed the egg inside. He buckled the flap shut and carefully eased the bag back onto his back. He adjusted the bag to a better position and strapped it in place.

While on the winds, Keryth considered his options. He could settle and wait for the egg to hatch, or he could wander. He knew vaguely of how prismatic dragon eggs hatched—they just did. They didn't require much in the way of special care the way a silver or a gold Darastrix egg did. That's the way tavern talk had it... if the rumor about the eggs actually being here were true, then surely this was as well?

Whatever the trick might be to tending his charge, Keryth felt he had to do it. Call it instinct—he felt protective of the thing. Fiercely. He tilted his wings and headed north. Orncaex knew more about the Darastrix than anyone he knew; hopefully she would know what to do about such an unusual thing.

Two days of flight and a near miss with a rather nasty looking red later, Keryth landed atop a high, cold mountain in front of two adamant doors. He tugged the bell rope that hung down the side of the doors. "It's Keryth. Orncaex, lassie, I need help. Are ye home?" he called.

The doors opened with a rush of warm air. A silver dragon just a little bigger than he was answered the door, smiling when he saw Keryth standing on the doorstep. "Keryth! Come in, come in! You must be freezing! What brings you so far from home, my friend?" Ornsjach let Keryth in and shut the door behind him, stopping the chill wind of the mountains that had been sweeping past.

"I need a knowledgeable friend's help. Perhaps Orncaex has told ye about prismatics before?" Keryth replied, slipping his backbag off and opening it to show the egg nestled inside, surrounded by furs purchased last-minute in Silverymoon. Ornsjach shook his head.

"Not much besides that they're absolutely enormous. Let me go get her." He trotted off and nudged open a pair of doors at the end of the atrium. "Aricaex, Keryth has a prismatic egg! Come see!"

Orncaex was out of the back room like an elven arrow. "Really?" she asked delightedly. She took one look at Keryth and scoffed. "No he doesn't! I don't see one! They're bigger than I am!"

Keryth brought her his bag. Her eyes widened considerably. "Wow. That's... that's got to be the weirdest thing I've ever seen." She nosed the egg gently. "And warm, too. Boy, Keryth, I have no idea what you've got here. It's so tiny! At least it's still healthy... other than size, at least. Head to Calimport, then. Prismatic Darastrix are creatures of light, and I can think of no brighter place."

Keryth nodded. "Then I set out at once. If I might have some water before I leave, that would be lovely. Oh, and Orncaex? Have ye ever heard of a great grey beast with six arms bearing flails? I saw two of them about two days and four hours past, by the sun. I have been flying since."

Orncaex stood quiet. "Those were aspects of Hextor, an evil deity of war and destruction from my world of birth. Outside of Tiamat, he is the god I loathe most. I would tell you of my world, Keryth, but you have a little one to tend to. I will fetch you water and you, dear boy, will be on your way south."

Thirst sated, Keryth nodded a last farewell to his silver friends and leapt from the edge of the cliff their lair was nestled on. The downward rush of cold air carried him along the south spur of the mountain range swiftly, carrying him over Mithril Hall in just over two hours. He spiraled down and perched just over the entrance to the underground city, startling the dwarves on guard duty. He apologized and pulled out his map of Faerun from a scroll case, unrolling the sturdy cloth item. By looks it would be a ten day trip without breaks on his path of choice, twelve with pauses here and there. He then considered having the trade winds at his back and realized that the extra push would get him there in far less time. Factoring rest stops cut his time to around seven days.

Looking to the two dwarves, Keryth rolled his map and put it away. "Good dwarves of Mithril Hall, forgive my intrusion." He bowed and took off, not bothering to see how the dwarves reacted. Perhaps, if he visited sometime in the future, he could gather tales to tell of himself. How funny that would be... and ironic, seeing as no one but a dragon would know that the steel Darastrix and their missionary friend were one and the same.

As he flew steadily south, Keryth wondered just how long it would be until the egg actually hatched. Normal eggs took a bit of time—Orncaex had told him once that a silver Darastrix egg was already one hundred and sixty five days in the making when it is laid, and it would then take another four hundred and ninety five days to hatch. She said that gold Darastrix had an even longer time to wait.

Keryth carefully opened the other scroll case he had tied to his bag straps and pulled out the perfect quartz crystal inside. Covered in Draconic runes, it looked like an item of great value already, but its true worth was only evident to those who knew how to use it. Called The Aridarastrixirthos, (The 'Dragon's Secret' in Common) it was a repository of about everything a Darastrix would need to know about their own people.

"Prismatic," Keryth said to the crystal. The runes were limned with an iridescent fire for a brief second. Slowly, Draconic script began to appear in the air above the runes in shimmering white lines. Keryth skimmed the text until he reached the point mentioning nests and eggs.

_It is not known what is required for a prismatic Darastrix to hatch, though eggs have been found in all manner of places. Current theory is that the prismatic Darastrix are truly so great that they need no specific condition aside from a mother and a father to be born into the world. Another theory holds that at least some source of light is necessary. _

Keryth tapped the crystal thrice, signaling that he was done. He tucked the item back into its case gently before pumping his wings to regain some lost altitude.

Many days of flight and rest later, Keryth backwinged to a neat landing near an oasis encampment and shrugged off his backbag. He unhooked the ring and bar fastener, slipping the egg out of the leather sack gently. He held it up briefly, admiring the brilliant rainbow fire of the crystalline shell. "Well," he said to his charge, "here we are now, little one, and here we wait."

Keryth lay down in the sand and wriggled, managing to bury all but his head under the loose stuff. He nosed the egg so it rested against his muzzle between two horns that protruded from his jaw. Heaving a sigh that sent sand scattering about his nostrils, Keryth settled in for a long wait.

Night fell swiftly over the desert, bringing with it the sounds and activities of many night creatures. Foxes with large ears trotted by, chasing scorpions, beetles, or lizards. Bats fluttered overhead, likely moving from one stand of flowering cacti to another. At one point Keryth found himself in the unwitting company of a pair of gargantuan brass Darastrix while they splayed themselves over the warm sands, gazed at the stars, and chattered amiably. They fell silent when human shouts went up from the direction of the encampment by the oasis. From what Keryth could hear, the commotion was being caused by a dispute over a prized racing camel. He had to restrain a chuckle as the brass Darastrix polymorphed and made for the encampment with all speed, cackling like crows. Brasses were ever the opportunists.

Keryth finally decided to get some sleep somewhere around middlenight, extricating himself from the sand. He gently, gently picked up the egg and slunk along the shadows of the dunes for the oasis, following the shore until he found a sufficiently isolated, vegetated cove to hole up in. Settling beneath the thick plants, Keryth nestled the egg in the soft soil and curled a paw about it, shutting his eyes.

Brilliant sunlight woke Keryth from his sleep. He yawned, shaking his head to rid himself of the last cobwebs of sleep. The egg was still nestled safely where he had placed it, sparkling in the morning light.

"Good morning to ye, little one." Keryth greeted the egg, nosing it. "Perhaps ye would like to come out today?"

The egg said nothing, naturally, but Keryth was content. He stood and went to the oasis, gulping down mouthfuls of cold, fresh water. He looked back when something behind him rustled; he realized the egg had tipped and fallen on its side, and was now rolling wobbly-bobbly through the leaf litter beneath the oasis foliage. "Hey now, I never said ye could leave!" Keryth scolded, trotting back to his wayward, ovoid charge. The egg stopped at his paw and wiggled. Keryth stared; it wiggled again. "Oh now, so ye do want to come out, then."

As if in reply, the shell bulged outward. A plate of the shiny stuff broke away, and a little nose stuffed itself into the hole. Nostrils flared as the youngling took its first breaths. Keryth lowered his head to get a closer look—the hatchling took a big, sudden sniff. Its scrabbles resumed, and the egg started to roll again. "Now, little one, if ye want to hatch, ye got to quit rolling all over the place," Keryth laughed as he caught it between his paws and picked gingerly at the hole in the shell.

The littling paused after another few minutes of work. It moved enough that it could regard Keryth with one big emerald eye. It examined him like that briefly before resuming its escape from its shell. "Come on, now, push!" Keryth encouraged gently, picking at the edges of the hole a little more. "Push, push!"

With a wet-sounding pop, the egg split in two and the littling tumbled out in a jumbled tangle of little limbs. "Da," it squeaked, unsteadily getting to its feet. Keryth curled around it protectively, examining the child with fond interest.

The wyrmling prowled the open circle of sand that Keryth's body and tail had made, examining every inch for every detail it could offer. In that time, Keryth determined it to be male and roughly the length of a full grown female elf's height. Its scales were impossible to see—it seemed as if the little lad were made of shimmering, iridescent glass. He had an overall pinkish tinge, though his hide reflected every color of the rainbow. Little dancing wisps of rainbow light limned his body, a sure sign of his prismatic heritage.

"Da?" the wyrmling asked, looking up at Keryth with its wide emerald eyes. Keryth nuzzled the him lovingly.

"Aye, laddie, I'm here for ye. I'm here." Keryth smiled for the wyrmling. "Now all we have to do is give ye a proper name, then." A name did pop into mind for Keryth, one he had vowed he would name his first child even if it was impossible to pronounce. Smiling, Keryth thanked the bored creativity of ten year olds and looked at his little wyrmling. "Now, laddie, how do ye like 'Othyallvjinquerpsveixwemkibeaccefig' for your name?"

The wyrmling sat down, tilted his head, and gave Keryth the blankest look a baby could make. The little lad seemed to try to say his name, making a little hissing 'hff... hf... hfff...' sound. Emerald eyes crossed, little cheeks puffed, and a little tail thumped on the sand. "Fig!" the baby barked, surprising himself. Keryth laughed, nuzzling the little fellow again.

"Well, laddie, if that's how ye want to say it, then Fig ye are. I'll teach ye how to say it right when you're older."


End file.
